by Griff Hosker
When I reached Doddy and Robbie I smelled smoke. “Hey you two, put them out. If there are Germans out and about they will smell them and the glow will mark you out as a target.”
“Sorry, sarge.” They both snuffed out their cigarettes and put them behind their ears for later.
I was about to leave when Caesar’s ears pricked up and he began to stamp his foot. It was a warning sign I had learned not to ignore. I slipped the safety off on my rifle and nodded to the other two. The clicks of their safeties sounded loud but I knew it was my imagination. I pointed to my eyes and then to the darkness beyond the hedges. I went to each man in turn and repeated my actions.
I crouched and peered through the hedgerow. The darkness was complete but some of the shadows looked to be darker than others. I raised my rifle and sighted it on one of the darker shadows. The waiting game ended when I heard what sounded like a boot slipping on mud and the shadow I had been following moved. I fired. The flash from my gun showed me grey coated infantry heading towards us. I yelled at the top of my voice, “Stand to!”
The rest of my pickets were now firing. I emptied my magazine and then began firing the Luger. The German infantry were kneeling and firing. I heard cries from my left and right as my troopers were hit. Then I heard the sound of George and the others as they raced to take their places next to us. As they fired I reloaded. I nodded to George and then went to see to Robbie and Doddy. Robbie was lying in a pool of blood. He had been hit in the left arm. I took off my scarf and tied it tightly around his wound. “Orderly! Wounded man at the horse lines.”
Just then I saw three Germans with bayonets hurling themselves at me. I turned and fired from the hip. Two of them fell but the third one stabbed towards my groin with the lethal looking blade. The butt of Doddy’s rifle smashed into the side of his head. He crumpled at my feet, his brains already oozing out. I nodded my thanks and then aimed at the next infantry man.
Then, it became easier as the colonel rushed more men into the line. When our machine gun came into play the Germans fled the field. We stood to until dawn broke and we could see the grey coated bodies lying in small groups in the damp and muddy field. Doddy and I went amongst the bodies searching for ammunition for our Lugers. Then I went back to see my section. Robbie had been taken away to the hospital. We later heard he had been sent back to England. He was alive and that was good. Apart from Doddy only Harry and Danny remained from my section. The rest were dead. Even George’s section had not emerged unscathed and our numbers had fallen to less than fifteen troopers.
The German attack had almost succeeded. It was only thanks to Caesar’s ears that we had been spared. Because of our losses the colonel spared us scouting duties the next day. It would have been pointless anyway; we were too few in numbers. Lieutenant Ramsden looked relieved to be at the rear with the wagons. I rode next to Doddy and tried to talk him out of his stupor. It did not work. It was as though half of him had died along with his brother.
“Thanks for last night, Doddy, you saved my life.”
“I saw the bayonet coming at you and thought of Tiny. Perhaps if I had been more careful and alert I could have saved him too.”
“You can’t change the past and Tiny wouldn’t want you like this. You know that.”
George had been listening and he nudged his horse next to Doddy’s. I saw the angry look on the lieutenant’s face. It spoiled his symmetry but neither George nor I were bothered.
“You know, Doddy, I lost a cousin in the Boer War so I know what you are going through.”
Doddy respected the old solider and he asked, “How did you get through it then?”
“By trying to be as good a soldier as he was and by never forgetting him. All the lads who have died in the last month need to be remembered. They died for their country.” He shrugged, “I am lucky to have lived this long and I know it. Make the most of every day that God lets you live and remember that there may well be a bullet or a shell with your name on it. It was Tiny’s time and he died well.”
That speech, which was one of the longest I had ever heard George give, seemed to have the right effect and Doddy brightened more than he had. I could see him digesting what the old soldier had said.
We were just twenty miles from where we had landed, Dunkirk, when the battle began. I say ‘battle’ but it was a series of skirmishes as our cavalry clashed with the German cavalry. We could hear the small arms fire and, as the colonel ordered us forwards, we heard the clash of sword on sword. As we approached we could see that the Dragoon Guards were heavily involved in a fierce fight with Uhlans. The Germans were pushing forward and had not seen the approach of our brigade. This was the colonel’s chance and he ordered the charge.
I took out my sword but checked that my Luger was secure. We would be travelling too fast to use my rifle effectively but I knew how good German cavalry were with swords. For once we were riding boot to boot across the flat and obstacle free field. We were on the plain of the Yser. We crashed into the side of the Uhlans. The tip of my sword entered the eye of an unsuspecting German who did not see our oblique approach and he fell beneath the hooves of our horses. Caesar barrelled through them and horses fell. He was a big and powerful horse. He was made for such work. I slashed with my sword and felt it bite into the arm of another cavalryman. He wheeled away and we ploughed through them. We had struck when they least expected it and they fell in their droves.
The pressure was too much for the Germans who were now being attacked from two sides and they turned to flee. I heard their bugle and saw them as they all turned to flee east and the safety of their own lines. The colonel did not relent and we hurtled after them. I think, on reflection, that he thought we might make a breakthrough which would shorten the war. There was no line and no order. It was every man for himself. Caesar’s legs opened and he began to eat up the ground. I sheathed my sword and took out my Luger. I fired at four Germans. They were so close to me that I could not miss and a couple of them dropped from their saddles. I holstered my pistol for I was wasting bullets.
I kept expecting the colonel to sound recall but, as I looked down the line I saw that the whole brigade was charging east. Before me all that I could see was the backs of the fleeing Germans. I saw that they were heading for a small wood. It made sense; they could regroup there and perhaps fire back at us. The colonel saw it too and we angled towards it. It would suit us as we could dismount and fight with our rifles. We had picked off all those who were close to us and the survivors had made it into the woods.
I began to slow Caesar down; he was breathing heavily. There was little point in charging into the woods; he might stumble. Suddenly, when we were less than a hundred and fifty yards from the wood, the German infantry hidden within began to open fire with machine guns and rifles. The troopers who were in front of me seemed to disappear as the rifles and machine guns found solid targets. The horses tumbled and screamed and men were hurled from the backs of their dead and dying mounts. As they struggled to rise they, too, were ripped apart from the bullets of the ruthless machine guns. It was a slaughter.
I had started to wheel Caesar around to seek safety when the machine guns ripped a line of holes in the side and chest of my brave horse and I felt him stumble. I could not see the damage and he kept on running. I thought I had escaped unscathed but I felt a sudden pain in my leg as though I had been kicked hard by a horse. I knew that I had been struck by the deadly bullets. Caesar continued to wheel and I found myself heading back through the regiment. All of those following were trying to stop and I saw riders pitched from their horses. Those at the rear, the Cumbrian Hussars, were already retreating. They were not waiting for the recall. I could see the death and destruction all around me. There were bodies of men and horses everywhere. Caesar managed another ten yards before his mighty heart finally gave out and the noble beast collapsed to the ground. I rolled clear and winced at the pain in my leg. I crawled over to Caesar. As I held his head he gave a slight whinny and then the life le
ft his eyes. My horse was dead. The horse I had seen born was gone. He had done his best to save me but he would run no more on the sands at Formby. I closed my eyes as I stroked his head. I wished then I had left him at home; there he would have been safe. He had died for no good purpose but he had saved my life. It was then that I heard the retreat sounded. I had lost my rifle and my sword but I still had my Luger.
I struggled to my feet and began to limp slowly west. The battle seemed to be far away or perhaps I was hallucinating. The sound of the guns was muffled and the horizon seemed to be hazy and moving. I could hear someone calling my name but it appeared to be coming from the skies. Perhaps I was dying and God was talking to me. I know that sounds stupid now but then, having seen so many of my comrades die, it seemed plausible. My wounded left leg finally gave up supporting me and I fell in a heap in the muddy field. As I looked up I saw George. He dismounted, “Why didn’t you stop, you daft bugger, I have been shouting you.” I struggled to answer but no words would come.
He dismounted and put his arms under me. He began to lift me. His horse just stood calmly waiting. “Put your good leg in the stirrup.”
I tried to focus on the stirrup but my leg would not cooperate. I gave him a weak smile. “Sorry George I….” Suddenly it all went black.
Chapter 9
I could hear moans before I opened my eyes. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was trying to climb on to George’s horse and failing. I awoke and it was night. There were dim oil lamps lighting the tent and I saw that I was in a hospital. There were nurses leaning over patients and I could smell ether and antiseptic. At least I wasn’t dead. I saw my uniform next to the bed. I looked beneath the covers. I was in pyjamas. Someone had undressed me. It sounds silly in hindsight but that was the thing which shocked me. It was only then I remembered my wound. We had heard horror stories from George about men having legs and arms amputated because of bullet wounds. I lifted the covers again and saw, to my relief, that my leg was still attached.
My mouth felt dry and I looked for water. There was none. The nurses all seemed to be busy and I did not want to disturb them. I tentatively moved my left leg. It tingled but I thought that I could move it. I threw back the covers and tried to sit up. It was a mistake and I suddenly felt dizzy. A sense of annoyance with my body washed over me. Why could I not stand? I was a soldier. I tried to force myself up but my arm had no strength in it and I fell backwards. As I did so my other arm caught my webbing and it crashed noisily to the floor.
One of the nurses turned around and glared at me. “Where do you think you are going?” She strode over to me.
I said, weakly, “I was thirsty and I needed a drink… sorry.”
The glare turned to a grin and she shook her head. “You men! Why didn’t you ask?”
“You all looked busy.”
She turned to a table in the middle of the tent and poured a tin mug of water. “We aren’t too busy to get you a drink of water.” As she handed it to me she said, “We wondered when you would come out of it.”
I swallowed the whole mug and she refilled it. I sipped half of the second mug. “How long since I was wounded?”
“This is the second day.”
Two whole days; I had never been in bed for one whole day before now. “My leg?”
“You were lucky. The bullets passed through the fleshy part of your thigh and missed everything that was vital. It was the same with your arm.”
“I was wounded in the arm?” No wonder I couldn’t support myself.
“Oh you were a right mess when that old sergeant brought you in. There was so much blood we all thought that you had bought it. Still you will be out of the war for a while now. You are to be sent back to Blighty on a hospital ship. Now get some rest and I’ll bring you something to eat. The doctor will want to talk with you.” She gestured with her head. “He was doing his rounds when one of your cavalrymen took a turn for the worse.”
It was when she left me that I remembered the battle. I saw Caesar, dead and the others lying riddled with bullet holes. She was right I had been lucky. I closed my eyes. I was not sleepy but I did not want to see the hospital tent. It was too much a reminder of the horror. Could I go back to riding a horse? I had only ever ridden Caesar. Would I be able to ride another? Would I want to ride another? There was just Doddy left alive from those who had set sail from England. Doddy and George Armstrong were the last ones. I didn’t count Lieutenant Ramsden. He would have survived. He was the surviving kind.
“Are you in pain? Would you like something to take the edge off it?”
I opened my eyes and saw a doctor. He looked to be older than George. I smiled, “No sir. I was just resting like the nurse told me to. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“And you are not.” He turned to the nurse. It was the one who had spoken with me earlier. “Nurse, roll back the covers so that I can check the dressing.”
“How is the soldier you were attending?”
The nurse looked sad and shook her head. The doctor said, “Trooper Brown? I’m sorry he was too far gone. It was a miracle he had lasted as long as he did.”
“Doddy?”
“You knew him? A giant of a man?”
I nodded, “I was his sergeant. His brother died the other day.”
The nurse put her hand on mine, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”
It had been many years since I had cried. I don’t know if it was just the thought of Doddy’s death or everything combining: the death of Caesar and the slaughter of my whole section. I had let them all down. Whatever the reason I began to cry and sob. I felt like a baby. The nurse put her arm around me and I cried into her apron. When I finally stopped she handed me a handkerchief.
“It is over for him now, sergeant. You’ll just have to remember him as he was.”
The doctor had finished examining me. Tactfully he had ignored my tears. I suspected that he might have seen it before. “The wound is healing nicely. He can go aboard the hospital ship tomorrow, nurse. We need the beds.”
I was left alone with my thoughts. I would have to write a letter to Mrs Brown, telling her of her loss. By rights it should have been the lieutenant but he did not know them and so I would do it. Then there were the others. Most of them had come from within ten miles of the estate and I had known almost all of them for my whole life. I resolved there and then that I did not want the responsibility of other’s lives again. There were other troop sergeants in the regiment who had not lost most of their men and that was down to me. Nurse Simpson, I had learned her name by now, badgered me until I ate something. Even as I was eating they were removing Doddy’s body and another patient was taking his place. It was like a plough going over a field. New bodies were turned and old ones removed.
I dozed off after the food and was awoken by a tap on the arm. It was George. He had a bandage on his hand. I shook my head, “And I thought that you were untouchable.”
He laughed, “Aye well it’s not a wound as will get me home that’s for certain but I reckon the regiment will have to go back home anyway.”
“Why is that?”
“We lost too many men and horses. I heard that those who wish to, can transfer to a regular regiment.”
“It was that bad?”
“Aye. It was an ambush of sorts. We should have stopped sooner but, well, when the blood is up.”
“Did many survive from our troop?”
“Just me, Danny Graham and the lieutenant.” He pointed at me, “And you, of course.”
“Doddy died this afternoon.”
“I know. I don’t know how he survived. He should get a medal. He fought like a maniac.” He shook his head. “I have never seen owt like it.”
“It didn’t do us much good did it?”
He became serious, “I told you once before that any soldier who expects him and all his mates to survive a war is missing a few screws up top. It was bad enough in the old days but with these machine guns and the German guns, well,
we stand no chance.” I could see that he was right. “What will you do, Bill?”
“They are sending me to a hospital and then… well home I suppose.”
“And then what?”
I had not thought that far ahead. “I think I will just get home first. I’ll have to see Mrs Brown and tell her about her lads. She will be all alone now. Will you go back home?”
“I suppose I will. The colonel asked me to be caretaker for the barracks. They won’t be needing it for a while and… well it will keep me occupied.”
“I take it the colonel is going to transfer?”
“He is, although what young Mr Ramsden will do is anybody’s guess.”
“Just so long as they keep him out of the front line. Too many men lost their lives because of his mistakes.”
George suddenly looked furtive. He rummaged around in his knapsack. “Here, they didn’t like the idea of you having this but I thought you might want it.” He slipped me my Luger, holster and ammunition. “I’ll put them in your knapsack. You never know, if you do join up again then you might need it.”
Nurse Simpson came along, “He needs his sleep now, sergeant.”
George smiled, “I know love. Can I see him in the morning before he goes on the hospital ship?”
“You’ll need to be here early they will be leaving for the ship at dawn, but, yes, of course you can.”
“You take care, Bill. I don’t know how you survived but you did and I think you have a job to do. You are a good sergeant and a good soldier. Don’t waste those talents.”
After he had gone Nurse Simpson tucked me in, “It’s a shame old men like him having to fight.”
“You think it should be the young eh?”
She seemed taken aback, “Well, no, but he is old enough to be my grandfather.”
“George has no kids and no family. His life was the army. Being inactive will be as bad for him as getting a wound.”
“That sounds a bit wise for someone so young.”